Mechanic gives back to the community by mentoring at-risk kids

In the beginning, people snickered at Terry Burnside when he started taking his 1985 Chevy Monte Carlo to drag races around the Midwest.

Clare Howard

“Street Sweeper" is known far and wide for its astounding power and speed, but it wasn't always that way.

The Sweeper's reputation grew one drag race after another, slowly, race by race earning the slogan painted on its windshield: "Street Sweeper. Most Hated. Most Feared."

In the beginning, people snickered at Terry Burnside when he started taking his 1985 Chevy Monte Carlo to drag races around the Midwest.

"People usually race smaller, lighter cars. The Street Sweeper is a sleeper," Burnside said. "It's not expected to run fast."

Once, a man laughed at Burnside outright at a race and said, "Man, this guy wants to race bad. He brought his grandma's car."

After the race, the same man said, "Man, that sure doesn't run like a grandma car."

Burnside, a self-proclaimed gear head, knows how to tell that story so kids on Peoria's South Side hang on each word. He knows how a kid's potential is judged by his appearance and his neighborhood. He knows how sweet victory tastes when performance surpasses low expectations.

And Terry Burnside knows how to spot a kid who could turn into a druggie or a gear head even before the kid knows he's standing at that precipice.

It's been a tough time for young, blossoming gear heads in Burnside's neighborhood since Peoria District 150 schools dropped auto mechanics classes in 1993 in a budget move. Burnside is trying to fill the void. His auto detailing shop on the corner of Western and Kettelle, just below the hill, is a magnet for kids after school.

He formed the 501c3 not-for-profit, P-Town Car Club, organized exclusively for charitable and educational purposes. His bylaws and articles of incorporation are textbook, but his success comes from street smarts.

Burnside, 42, was standing at that precipice decades ago and stepped out on the wrong ledge. Now, he says, he's trying to pay back his community.

Investing in Kids

He knew he loved everything about cars and motorcycles. Manual High School didn't have its own auto mechanics program when he was enrolled, but kids went to a building downtown for classes. Even that is now gone.

Burnside eventually dropped out of high school and only later got his GED and associate degree in auto mechanics from John Wood Community College.

"Now they've totally cut industrial arts. Kids have fewer outlets other than sports," he said. "A lot of people are just giving up on youth. We can't do that. Too costly to society. We have to invest in kids and keep them busy."

P-Town Car Club meets Saturday afternoons at Carver Community Center. Members range in age from 20 to their 60s. Membership dues pay for community picnics and barbecues, back-to-school supplies, community outreach and mentoring.

After school, regulars hang around Burnside's Southside Auto Detail shop, 314 S. Western Ave. They wash and detail cars. They learn a little about auto mechanics and metal working. They hear stories about drag racing.

"There are a lot of misconceptions about drag racing. People think it's a dangerous sport," Burnside said. "But it's just like any other sport. It can be done carefully or recklessly. It can be done precisely.

"Like the wheel standing challenge. Pop wheelies. Street Sweeper can do pop wheelies. It's all about torque and horsepower. Kids are attracted to that. They'll learn about torque and horsepower. Kick them out of school, and they roam the streets learning nothing. I'm trying to interest them in learning something. I'm trying to be an effective tool in my community."

Hoping to Expand

Burnside is looking for a building with space for storage, classrooms, offices and bays for helping teach kids how to work on cars. He'd like to attract more interested kids.

Two of the after-school regulars at his shop are brothers Willie Murry, 14, and Justin Murry, 13.

"We come here to keep out of trouble. It gives us something to do," said Willie Murry, a freshman at Manual High School.

The brothers concede they could probably be considered gear heads. They ride bikes with the brakes carefully removed, leaving them to stop and turn with their sneakers. They are both particularly fond of Burnside's black Mustang.

"Got to sit in it once," Justin Murry said.

With a sudden rumble on Western Avenue, a souped-up car zoomed by – part of the urban fabric of the neighborhood, easy to dismiss as background noise. But Justin Murry's eyes locked on the car the instant the roar of the engine reached his ears; Willie Murry's, a second later. They tracked the Mazda up the hill and out of sight.